Leaving On A Jet Plane
by Tricki
Summary: AU.  88: What might have happened if Simon really had really left MDA to go to Germany.  So kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you'll wait for me.  Oh, babe, I hate to go.


**AN**: You know I love them. I can't resist. I wrote this some time ago, digging it out to post now. Lyrics and title are from the song 'Leaving On A Jet Plane', Eva Cassidy's version. Hope you enjoy :)

**Summary**: AU What might have happened if Simon actually _had _gone to Germany.

**Set**: Mid S2 - whenever Simon was going to leave {I should know, I'm just tired}.

**Spoilers**: None, it's AU.

**Disclaimer**: I no more own the song 'Leaving On A Jet Plane' than I own MDA.

_All my bags are packed_  
_I'm ready to go_  
_I'm standing here outside your door_  
_I hate to wake you up to say goodbye_  
_But the dawn is breaking_  
_It's early morn_  
_The taxi's waiting_  
_He's blowing his horn_  
_Already I'm so lonesome_  
_I could die_

_So kiss me and smile for me_  
_Tell me that you'll wait for me_  
_Hold me like you'll never let me go_  
_'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane_  
_Don't know when I'll be back again_  
_Oh babe, I hate to go_

"Simon?" Amanda asked sleepily. If her brain were working better she would've been grinning furiously at the sight of him, regardless of the hour. "What are you doing here?"

He couldn't help but love the way she was sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"I... I'm leaving for Germany in a few hours, and... I... I'm sorry I woke you, I just had to see you." He said. She didn't think she was fit to make the assessment but he actually sounded a little choked up.

"Today?" She asked, suddenly worried that she might cry. He nodded. "I'm glad you came." She muttered.

"Aside from the hour." He teased.

"It's only five, it's okay." She said while trying {and failing} to stifle a yawn. He was right, it was much too early for her to be awake.

He laughed shortly through his nose. "I know you don't like getting up before seven."

"Seven thirty." She corrected. "But this is worth it." She said certainly. Simon wasn't about to say anything aloud, but he thought this was an awful reason to wake her up this early. He'd always thought if he randomly showed up on her doorstep too early in the morning it would be with croissants and coffee and the intention of making love to her before they had to go to work. She would never know this, of course.

"Sorry. Come in." She said finally, stepping back. She ran her hand down his arm as he walked past.

"Can I get you something?" She asked, walking towards the kitchen only to find him making _her_ a pot of coffee. "You don't have to do that..." She stated with soft disapproval.

"I've been up for hours. I don't mind."

"You're saying I shouldn't be allowed to operate a coffee scoop at this hour, aren't you?" She teased, leaning back against her bench.

He looked up at her with a wicked smile. "No..."

It sounded more like a Simon version of 'duh' to her.

She drank in the sight of him making coffee in her kitchen and a lump formed in her throat. This was what she wanted. Every day. Simon, in her flat, around her, looking this at home. And now she would never have that; he was going to Germany and she had to accept that he was married. Her eyes moistened slightly but she cleared her throat in defiance.

"So... you're actually moving to Germany?" Simon turned and nodded slowly.

"That's the plan..." He silently opened her fridge and removed the milk, before crossing the small room again and collecting a porcelain sugar bowl. He plunged the coffee and busied himself about doctoring the two beverages. Once completed he lifted her mug and set it before her. His eyes rose from the cup to find her not, as he'd expected, looking into her coffee, but studying him. They didn't break eye contact.

Simon straightened, silently prompting her with his eyes.

"I thought you'd be around forever. And it's only been a few months and I'm already losing you." He gazed at her wonderingly.

"We'll keep in touch." He promised quietly, trying to decide whether to squeeze her arm, take her hand, or cup her cheek. He took her hand, deciding it was the happy medium of options, deciding that regardless of how desperately he wanted to cup her cheek, he needed to maintain some social distance.

Amanda, however, had other ideas; she curled her arms around his neck and cuddled into him, reasoning that he was leaving anyway, so she might as well soak in as much of him as she could get. The scent of him invaded her nostrils and she felt her knees weaken. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to him tightly – which was lucky, because she may not have remained upright otherwise – also savouring the scent of her. He wondered if he would actually survive this.

Suddenly Amanda pulled back, irritated, tears slowly but constantly flowing from her eyes. Simon couldn't tell which one of them she was more irritated with.

"Why did you listen to me, Simon? I told you not to bloody listen to me." She went to pivot away from him, but he caught her face in his hand and steadied her with his gaze. So much for appropriate social distance...

"Hey. Hey. What are you talking about?" He questioned her tenderly.

When she answered him her voice was small. "When I told you to go visit Eva. Why did you have to listen to me?"

He sighed deeply, took her hand again, drew her back into his arms, and admitted something he never intended to admit. "Because your opinion matters to me more than anyone else's."

"Then you're not as smart as I thought." She tried to say it cuttingly, but she was too upset. Simon had the temerity to laugh a little.

"No, I just have a very convincing best friend."

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you." She whispered against him. He turned his face slightly so his lips were close to her temple. His breath broke over her flesh and painfully twisted the hook he'd involuntarily sunk into her heart.

"I know how you feel." Against his better judgement he rested his lips against her skin, his eyes sliding closed.

"Amanda..." He muttered, muted pain in his voice. "I..." With absolutely no idea of what would transpire in the future he was more than tempted to tell her exactly what he felt for her.

"Me too." She whispered.

He held her for another long moment before saying the words which broke both their hearts.

"...I have to go."

"What time is your flight?" She queried, tears under control.

"Seven thirty." He whispered.

"Shit." She muttered, clinging onto the front of his shirt.

"I don't want to but I do..." He left the words 'have to leave' unspoken. She pulled away from him but left her hands lightly on his chest.

"Will you... will you call me when you get there?" She looked away from him. "I mean, you don't have to but – "

"I'll call when I get there." Was his assurance. His eyes flickered with something she couldn't read.

"What?" She queried tenderly.

"If I tell you it will change everything."

"Change can be good." She suggested, for the first time since he'd met her seeming timid.

"I was thinking that I want to kiss you, but if I do I don't think I'll be able to leave."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" She asked, terrified of the answer. "Forget I said that. I'm supposed to be your supportive best friend, ignore me. I don't do goodbyes well."

"You know ever since I met you there's been something there; and there's a part of me that keeps saying 'maybe she's it', but I... I owe it to the last nine years of my life to try and save my marriage."

Her face flushed red. "Of course. Of course, I understand that completely. I don't even know what I was – "

Simon silenced her tidal wave of excuses by pressing his lips to hers and tangling his fingers in her curls.

Amanda swallowed hard once he pulled away, her hand involuntarily gravitating to her mouth.

"I'll call you. And I'll see you soon. I – "

"I know." She whispered. "Have a safe flight, Doctor Lloyd."

"Make sure Happy doesn't have a heart attack while I'm gone, Ms McKay." He smiled, stroking her cheek again.

Amanda smirked. "I'm only human."

And with that he was gone, leaving her with nothing more than his half empty coffee cup, his lingering presence, and the promise of a phone call. It wasn't a lot, but she was pretty sure he was worth the gamble.


End file.
